


And Then He Soared

by Merfilly



Category: DCU - Comicverse
Genre: Gen, Suicide
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-11-26
Updated: 2007-11-26
Packaged: 2017-12-14 05:27:57
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 429
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/833287
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Merfilly/pseuds/Merfilly
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's been too much for Tim</p>
            </blockquote>





	And Then He Soared

**Author's Note:**

> Vaguely post-Lightning Saga

It was his favorite spot in Gotham, to go and sit and think and brood. He could sit so high, look down into the city, barely make out the details of the streets, the alleyways so far below. Gotham Cathedral was so old, so much a part of the city, that it felt like an anchor to the boy. 

Boy in age, maybe. Too much had passed for him to ever be a boy in spirit, if he ever had been since the night a Flying Grayson saw the others soar that final time. Eyes that had remained stonily dry throughout the days, gave way to tears, here, where no one but the grotesques and gargoyles could see him, pity him.

The boy of tragedy, they'd call him that, if the histories were still written in lyric and song.

So many voices from the other side, calling out to him. A mother, a father...friends and lover. All gone. All asking him to remember them. To bear their weight in a world that would soon put them aside, or that already had.

It was a heavy weight. For a boy meant to fly, he wondered how he could keep falling forever.

Life mocked the colors he had once worn, the name he still bore.

The colors now had been his, but now, they felt like more. Now the black was drowning in the deaths, the funerals, the memorials. The red was the blood, the life's pulse drained from them all. He was drenched in that blood, in the guilt of having failed to be enough, in having failed to find the way to make things right.

Robin. Self-appointed in some ways, to save Batman from being the Dark Knight he had become. Look at what it had gotten him, how much dark and grief his association had brought the Bat.

Those whispered calls from the other side told him it was not all bad, that he had only met some of them by being who he was.

He just wanted to have them all back. He would trade ever having known them, just to bring them back, so that others could know their warmth, their life, their brilliance. If he could trade it all...

The voices whispered, stroking his memories, trying to make it right, but there was no right. Not when so many had died. He wanted to leave it all behind, to stop listening to the voices of the ones he failed.

They said 'stay'.

He chose to fly...one last time, into the dark Gotham night.


End file.
